Names On Repeat
by khaleesiunburnt
Summary: She repeats the names of those she loves. But never his.
1. Names

The long corridor was disgustingly lit with florescent lighting that made even the relatively healthy, look sick and pale. The tap of his dragonhide Oxfords on the dull grey linoleum was grating on his already frayed nerves. His work day was complete though and he always came to see her. To see if she remembered anything. From before. From now. Any change in her was a good change.

Stepping in front of the last closed door in the third hallway of the Janus Thickery Ward, his red Auror robes swirling around his ankles, Draco Malfoy took a long and deep breath. At a count of 10, he let the breath out and let the stress of the day fall away. Shoulders released of tension and one hand on the knob, he entered her room slowly, as to not scare her.

A team of 20 Aurors, 10 Junior Aurors, and the remaining Order of Phoenix members, had been working to find her for five years after the Battle of Hogwarts fifth anniversary before Narcissa Malfoy had literally found her in her drawing room after hearing a commotion inside the long locked room. How she got there, they would never know. Accidental apparition would be his best guess. Somewhere that was connected to her. Somewhere with her magical signature. Her blood was still soaked into the floor, no matter how much his mother had them scrubbed.

Hermione sat with her arms wrapped around her muscular legs that she had pulled up to her chest at the head of the bed with her bottom on her pillows. Soft, long, curly hair covering her face like a hood and her hospital gown looking worse for wear.

"Hermione, have you been giving the Healers a hard time again? Showing them your proper swotty attitude in the form of not dressing correctly?" Draco asked calmly.

"Harry" she answered.

"No, you have nothing to fear with them and you know it. They are here to help you." he told her sternly as he sat in the nylon covered hospital issued chair that sat the closest to her bed. He shifted his right leg to rest over his left knee and sat back to get comfortable.

"Ronald" she sqeaked.

" I don't know why you are mad at me about this. I got dressed this morning and combed my hair like a proper gentleman. So unless you want me to floo Weaslette to come scream like a banshee at you once again, I suggest you let them brush that mane you call hair and keep your clothes on like the lady I know you are."

She had always been a well mannered, polite and kind girl. Even Draco Malfoy knew that. No matter how much he taunted and ridiculed her, no matter how far he pushed her, she had always held herself with dignity, grace and dare he say, pureness. Muggleborn or not she was generally good. Better even, than most purebloods he knew. Since she had been found though, she had been a bit...well, crazy would be a fitting word. Pulling at her hair, biting at her own tongue and cheeks till blood pooled in her mouth and dribbled down her chin. Scratching at the scar on her arm till it no longer resembled the original slur. Only ribbons of unhealed flesh that stayed raw and red that the Healer assigned to her for the day, would have to constantly place healing charms on to keep infection from setting in. She only spoke in names of people she knew. Six months, she had been here in this room. Locked within her own mind, to an extent. Six months of mumbled names and five years missing before that. She explained how she felt by saying the names of people she loved, coveted, kept close. Weasleby came in the mornings before he was due at the Ministry and Draco came at night. The remaining members of the Weasley family came to visit periodically throughout the day.

Percy, the biggest pompous prat of the lot, told her about the new law's the Ministry had and would be passing all while Hermione bit at her nails till nothing was left but bloody cuticles. Charlie, the bumbling giant, would lie in bed with her while he explained the new dragons they where working with in Romania with her head on his chest like she was his little sister but holding her in a vice like grip to keep her from thrashing. Bill and his scars would ask her opinion on new curses he was trying to break on some old ladies jewelry from the 18th century he had never come across before and would hum and agree with the side of her face while she tore at her clothes. Fleur, the beautiful but annoying Veela, would fuss with her pillows, the flower arrangements, and the ridiculously stupid get well cards from fans and friends alike while Hermione would attempt to suffocate herself in the bedsheets. George would just hold her hand, kiss her knuckles, move her wild hair out of her face while she cried neverending silent tears. Ginny would tell her about her job at the Daily Profit as a Quidditch writer, although she knows Hermione cares not a lick for Quidditch, while she holds some ugly beast Hermione at one point deemed a pet. Mrs. Weasley was something else entirely. Molly brushes her hair and braids it away from her face. She feeds her small bites of whatever she made for dinner while Arthur holds her arms down away from her face while he tells her about the new muggle things he is tinkering with. Molly brushes her teeth the muggle way. She washes her face and paints her nails a simple nude even though there is nothing left of her nails to paint. She reads her Lovegood's pieces in the Quibbler about whackspats that make your head go fuzzy. She dresses her in traditional Weasley jumpers and soft pants. She makes her tea with honey and a splash of milk and helps her bathe. Harry Potter. Her best friend. He comes in at odd times at all hours of the day and scoup her up bridal style and hold her in her hospital bed. He wouldn't care who was in the room or even if she was mid bath. Her nakedness didn't effect him in the slightest. He would breath in her shampoo and whisper into her hair whatever it was that he needed to say. He would hold her for hours while she curled up in his arms.

"Harry" she mumbled from under her cloud of hair that will surely give Mrs Weasley a hard time when she shows up in the morning. "Harry" she repeats a little louder.

"Granger, you're going to stress me out more than you already do. I don't know what you are scared of but if you don't tell me I can't help." Draco slid his hand through his hair and mused the perfected slicked back hairstyle of his youth, that he fell back on as of late. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his face. "I beg of you Hermione, please, please talk. Anything other than another bloody name."

"Draco"

Draco's eyes flew open and he sucked in a breath. She had never said his name. Never. She said Potter's more times than he could count as her way of saying scared, Ronald for when she was angry, George when she was sad and Molly when she was tired. But never his own. Maybe he had imagined it? It wouldn't surprise him really. Sleep was an elusive witch.

"Draco", she repeated. Ya...that was real. He looked up at her through his fingers. She was looking at him now. Hands in her hair and flushed face.

"Right. I'm Draco." He stood up from the ugly chair and sat on the edge of her bed. "Do you need anything?"

She leaned forward closer to his face. His breathing hitched and he swallowed stiffly. One of the hands she had tangled in her hair slipped out and reached for his cheek. She swipped her thumb over his sharp cheek bone, across his nose, down to his lips. "Draco" she breathed as she ran three fingers over his top lip. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and plunged forward before he could even comprehend what was happening.

_Lips. Soft, warm, full lips are on mine. Her lips. Merlin and Morgana. Hermione's lips. _He hadn't been kissed in so long that he forgot what it felt like. The bubbling in his stomach. The rise of his body temperature. The tightness in his chest. Hands framed his face and plunged into his hair before his mind snapped back into place from wherever it floated off to._ Need to push her away. Need her away from me. Not right. Not appropriate_. But he couldn't, no, wouldn't push her. He was frozen in place while her lips brushed against his. While her tongue darted out to taste him. "Draco" she cooed.

Draco's eyes snapped open. He didn't even realize he had closed them. He moved out of her grasp by a few inches. Just enough room to breath. To gather himself. He had just let Hermione put her lips on his. He wasn't even sure if he had kissed her back. Had he? _Damn it_. He couldn't think stright with her breathing the same oxygen as he was. Her fingers fell away and she moved back to her original space at the head of the bed. "Harry. Ron. Molly. Ginny. George. Author. Charlie. Harry. Harry! Harry!"

"Okay. Okay, I'll get Potter, alright? Don't cry. No, no, Hermione, it's alright. Look, I'm not mad or upset. Just don't cry." Draco pleaded with her. Hermione's body wracked with great sobs that would have scared even the most skilled wizard. "It's fine. It's alright. Look, I'll go get the Healer to send word to Potter ok? It's alright. Just don't move ok? I'll be back before you can say bowtruckle. Or not. That was stupid on my part. Right...Ya I'm going. Don't move." Draco had never ran so fast. Down the long hallway with the glaring light, then left to mismatched chaired waiting area with the receptionist that wore too much perfume and drew on her eyebrows.

By the time Potter had showed up, Draco was back to the sparce room where Hermione had lived inside this sham of a hospital with his back to the wall and his hands deep in his pockets watching the frail young woman cry and repeat his name while she tried to hide under her thin blankets. "What's happened, Malfoy? Is she sick?" he asked.

"No, Potter. Listen." Draco tipped his chin in her direction.

"Your name? Huh. What's that one mean?"

"At this point, your guess is as good as mine."

"But you always figure it out. You break her code with the names. What happened when she said it?" Potter asked.

Draco froze. He wasn't ready for that. He knew he would have to say something. Part of the investigation to find out where she had been or why she was this way, was going over everything that happened while he and everyone else was with her. _Damn._

"She said my name, then she kissed me" Draco replied dryly, like he was talking about having sushi for dinner.

"She kissed you? Like with her mouth?" Harry gaped at him.

"No Potter, like 3rd year, with her fist. Of course with her mouth you complete dolt. How have you survived this long again?"

While Draco spat at him, Harry had moved to Hermione's bedside. He slid his hand under her legs and lifted her into his arms to hold her like he always did. But instead of murmuring into her hair, he talked directly to her.

"Mione. Draco?" he asked and pointed at Malfoy. "Mad?" She shook her head. "Happy?" She tilted her head, but then shook it again. "Excited?" "Angry?" "Sad?" "Hurt?" The list went on and the longer it went on the more irate Draco became with the whole situation and began pacing across the room. Back and forth across ugly grey linoleum, with the tapping of his shoes and the sniffing of the woman in the background. His hands clenched and unclenched inside his pockets.

"Malfoy. Malfoy, did you hear me?" Potter called.

"What?" Draco barked. Then he froze. They where starring at him. Hermione sitting in Harry's lap and the boy wonder himself. Just starring. "Sorry. What? I missed...What?"

"Mione," Harry called to her. "Draco? Love?" Harry looked at Draco like he just found the 13th use of dragonsblood and deserved another Order of Merlin for it. But Draco stopped breathing. He spun the ring on his fourth finger of his left hand. Habit. Hermione looked at him. She sighed. She rolled her eyes. Draco fell to his knees. _Son of a..._

"Draco."

_She remembers me._


	2. Repeat

Previously, in the shit whole of a life we live, Draco Malfoy was never known to be kind. Revise that...he was never kind, period. Kindness is a weakness and Malfoy's are not weak. Malfoy's stand tall and never faulter. But every once in awhile, they do get sloshed and run into people on accident. At the time, running head on into Granger, was the most embarrassing, "please earth swallow me whole right here" situation Draco had ever been privy too. Speaking to her was never something he wanted to ever do again. So after disentangling his limbs from hers and realizing he had in fact ran into the know-it-all Gryffindor princess, he apologized. Yes, Draco Malfoy, youngest and worst Death Eater, apologized and helped her pick up the stacks of paper work and folders from the cobblestones in front of Weasley's Wizard Weezes on a Monday morning.

"It's alright, Draco" was all she said. His world stopped spinning. Why would his world stop spinning over the sound of his given name passing her lips? It was cut and dry the way she said it but its was also a gentle caress. She had said it almost as a mother would when you had gotten into mischief. Like you knew you were going to get a stern lecture but she cared, so it didn't sting as much. As he handed over the file, he stayed silent so she could rage about his clumsiness or lack of social decorum. But she never did. She just politely excused herself from his presence and walked away.

"Granger, wait!"

Why in the fuck did he yell? She was literally 5 feet from him. Yelling was not needed. Also, why did he want her to wait? What did he want? And, why was his mental monologue getting tedious? Schizophrenia? Maybe he would starting seeing things too.

She turned only half her body, files clutched to her chest. Head tilted and on delicate eyebrow raised.

"Do you want to get coffee?" he asked. Coffee?! He didn't even drink coffee! Did he just ask her on a date? The Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy couldn't go on dates. He was either way too drunk still or he needed to go to Mongo's and have himself committed.

Granger turned completely around to face him and walked back to stand in front of him. "I can smell the firewhiskey on you, Draco. You must be pretty drunk." She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and made eye contact. "Where do ferrets get coffee on Monday's?"

Granger's lunch break was at noon so after a sober-up potion and the most intensive mental health check St. Mongo's had to offer he made his way to Florean Fortescue's and hoped they had coffee. Getting the four person table furthest from the door in the corner, he sat with his back to the wall to watch the door. Habit from the war. See all exits and don't let anyone sneak up on you. It's crazy what you pick up when your life is constantly in peril for a couple years. When Granger walked in, ugly bag over one shoulder, she sat next to him instead of across. And there they sat, while neither drank their coffee and watching the exits for Granger's hour lunch break in silence.

They actually got married twice. Once in muggle London at some office looking building for Granger and the second time in the manor for himself. They fought both times. But no one questioned them or tried to give them getaway plans. Their honeymoon consisted of them figuring out how she liked her hair pulled and how he needed her nails in his back in order to finish. Marriage for them wasn't simple. It wasn't flowers and gentle touches. It was a fire. Harsh and all consuming. Bodies slammed into walls while they tore at one another's clothes. Names said with rolled eyes. Fingers pointed in agitation and broken china. But he always bought her hair products when she was getting low and she would always do up his tie for work. He always had her tea with honey and a splash of milk ready for when she left and she always left him notes in the pocket of his trousers. They always kissed good morning and moved together at night. You couldn't have one without the other.

But of coarse every story has a bit of drama or it wouldn't be told. So on the 5th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, the final battle, the tiny Malfoy family went to the Ministry like everyone else. They were tragically late because Draco couldn't decide on cufflinks of all things. He would regret that fight later. Drinks were floating on trays around the edge of the room and as Hermione snagged a glass of champagne, she whispered to her husband she was going to find Harry.

"Don't get lost, Granger. I would hate to have to pull you away from trying to free a house elf at the end of the night." he told her as he placed a brief kiss on the side of her mouth.

"Draco" she scoffed and rolled her eyes with a smirk.

Draco would later go over every detail of the way she looked when she turned away from him. How lovely she looked in her midnight blue gown. How her hair smelled of coconut and her cheeks blushed when he touched her. How her skin felt under his finger tips when she brushed past him in search of her friend. How she had been so flustered with him that evening when he purposely refused to pick out his cufflinks just so he could have her angry beneath him before they left. How he had called her by her maiden name instead of the name she had elegantly wore like a pearl necklace when she married him. Draco wouldn't see her nose scrunched up when she thought hard about something or hear her yell at him from the bathroom when he purposely took every towel out of the room while she showered. He wouldn't feel her hands reach out for him at night when she crawled into bed late or be able to sense her presence behind him in the kitchen in the morning when he prepared her tea over bitter coffee for over 5 years. When he couldn't find her after 30 minutes at that stupid pompous celebration of a war won, he started to hyperventilate. He couldn't breath without her. He couldn't function. Where would she go? When Potter said he hadn't seen her the whole night, every glass within 20 feet of Draco exploded with accidental magic. After a thorough search of the building, they found her wedding ring next to the floo. Draco spun his wedding ring while he held hers in the palm of his hand. Terrible habit.

Draco Malfoy was never known to be a kind person. Revise that, he was never kind, period. Merlin and Morgana help whomever was stupid enough to touch his wife because he would never let them live.


	3. Names Never Repeated

Took me far too long to finish this. I do apologize and appreciate you waiting around to see how this ends. Don't kill me. Also I don't own Harry Potter. The voices are wrong.

* * *

Finding evidence was extremely difficult in this case. A case that had been open far too long. But as Hermione seemed to be to be coming out of whatever trance she had been in, Draco finally had hope. It started with his name, but later she began showering herself. A week after his name, came dressing, then gradually eating by herself. Draco barely took a breath, thinking that if he relaxed, she would slip back into her head. He stood beside her while she brushed her teeth, held her hand as she walked the ugly halls of the ward. She would push him toward the door at the end of the day, huffing his name as she shoved as if to say "Leave you tactless prat, so I can sleep". But after a particularly good day, where she had hummed a song while she plaited her hair, an owl came to the ward to disrupt his staring. They had a lead.

"Granger, I have to run back into work. Be a good little swot for me. Read one of your books I brought you. There are new muggle pens, and a notebook in your bedside, if you want to use them."

He bent to kiss her on the crown of her hair but as he bent towards her, she pushed her face up asking for his lips. Smiling gently, he kissed her cheek instead still not comfortable kissing her mouth because he couldn't hear her voice tell him it was ok. With a pat on her hair, he was out the door and toward the floo before she could force his hand.

Potter was waiting in the Atrium when he arrived.

"According to protocol, you shouldn't be here. But I know you. You can watch the interrogation and that's it."

"Fine. Who?"

"Dolohov."

"Shit"

"Agreed"

After a long torturous interview with Dolohov, Potter needed a coffee extra strong. Sitting in Potter's office and Draco in the guest chair, they stared at each other for a very long while soaking in what they had learned from the Death Eater. He had snatched her right out from under their noses. He kept her in the basement of a muggle house in Kent. Raped her, beat her, used the Imperio Curse to make her act willing, used her as a maid, a cook, and somewhere to put his cock. He had wanted her since the Department of Mysteries, he claimed. "Her place is beneath us. So that's where I put her. I marked her as mine when we fought that night, right here in the Ministry. Still has the beautiful scar. Tell Malfoy I see why he married her. Every inch of her was tight." The only reason they could come up with for her to escape was that he had finally used the Crucio her after she had fought the Imperio. She must have taken herself back to where it had happened before with some very strong wandless magic. She was Hermione Granger after all. Smartest witch if her age indeed.

Draco pushed up from his seat, Auror robes swishing around his ankles. He nodded at Potter and left.

* * *

The long corridor was disgustingly lit with florescent lighting that made even the relatively healthy, look sick and pale. The tap of his dragonhide Oxfords on the dull grey linoleum was grating on his already frayed nerves. He had to see her though. As soon as he seen her breathtaking face, he would calm. He stopped at the last door and let out a breath after the count of 10. He let his stress fall away and slowly, as to not scare her opened the door to step inside.

There she was, his strong, brave Gryffindor of a wife, holding their brand new baby. She was glorious.

"Draco"

"I'm sorry, I'm late. I tried to be here but Kingsley wouldn't..." Draco started as he looked at his wife from the doorway.

"Come here, Draco and meet your daughter."

Draco snuck close to see the bundle she held close to her chest. She had a few wisps of shock white hair, he mothers nose, and chubby cheeks and fingers from what he could see. A perfect child.

" Gamma, this is your daddy. Draco, this is Gamma."

" Oh daddy's little star. She is marvelous, Granger." Draco would not cry. He definitely would not. But maybe if no one knew.

Draco was glad he was able to see this miracle. The miracle of his wife's recovery and his daughter's existence. Five years had went by since the night they caught Dolohov. Five years had went by since he left Potter's office to wait till the other Auror's had left Dolohov in his cell alone. Five years since he tore him apart with his bare hands. He had been home from a minor stint in Azkaban for a little over a year. He wasn't even sorry he did it. He might not have been able to turn back time to keep her from getting hurt, but he could take away the fear of him ever hurting her again.

He should have done life in Azkaban, but the Wizamagot made it out to be a slap on the wrist for killing the man who destroyed the mind of their Golden Princess. They wouldn't let him keep his job as an Auror for using his job to get to the man he murdered but as a stipulation of his probation he had to help train the new recruits coming in and to be used as a consultant on cases. Which in Draco's opinion, was better than being an Auror anyway.

On the plus side, now everyone knew that Draco Malfoy was never known to be a kind person. Revise that, he was never kind, period. Merlin and Morgana help whomever was stupid enough to touch his wife and child because he would never let them live.


End file.
